


Red Into Blue

by katling



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Grey Wardens, Implied Past Abuse, M/M, Minor Body Horror, Red Lyrium, slavers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 21:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3951979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katling/pseuds/katling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hawke comes staggering back into Skyhold less than three weeks after he left with a red-lyrium infected Fenris in his arms, no one quite expects the answer to the question of how this could have happened to lead from Skyhold to Weisshaupt via the meddling of Flemeth. </p>
<p>This was written for the Dragon Age Big Bang and the banner art is by the amazing <a>kurthawke</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Into Blue

**Author's Note:**

> There is more amazing art by kurthawke here - http://kurthawke.tumblr.com/post/119111135904. There is also a fanmix for this piece, also by the amazing kurthawke, which can be found here - http://kurthawke.tumblr.com/post/119111130599.

Everyone was surprised when Hawke staggered back into Skyhold barely three weeks after he’d left to go to Weisshaupt. They were even more surprised that he was carrying someone swathed in a cloak, the fabric wrapped so that even the person’s face was obscured. Hawke’s expression was certainly bleak and grim as he stumbled into the lower courtyard and asked for help. By the time he had been taken to a room, the Inquisitor had been informed and had made his way down.

“Hawke,” Jeremy Trevelyan said with a surprise. “I wasn’t…”

“I need help,” Hawke said, his voice hoarse and grief-stricken. The cloak-wrapped person lay on the bed behind him.

“Of course,” Jeremy said, stepping forward. “What’s wrong?” 

Hawke gently removed the cloak from the person he’d been carrying and Jeremy gasped. It was an elf and since he’d read Varric’s ‘Tale of the Champion’ and listened to the dwarf’s many stories about Hawke and his friends, he knew who it was. The ex-slave, Fenris. Hawke’s lover. But instead of the white lyrium marks mentioned in the story, the marks trailing down his chin and neck and disappearing under his clothes were laced with red.

“Maker’s balls,” Jeremy breathed. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Hawke said, his misery obvious. “I got a message from a tavern keeper via one of your people. He said Fenris had asked for me and when he collapsed in the taproom and his markings started glowing red, he went to the Inquisition, hoping they could help.” He looked up at Jeremy. “He’s… been infected by the red lyrium.”

That much was obvious. Even if the colour of the markings didn’t give it away, Jeremy could hear the unsettling hum that was common to red lyrium.

“I… I’ll go and… speak to some people,” he said faintly. He hurried out of the room and down the corridor. He had no idea what they could possibly do and in that case… 

He shook his head and when he reached the great hall, he grabbed the first servant he found and sent her after Vivienne and Dorian, telling them to meet him in Solas’ room. He sent Varric off to look after Hawke and then went and fetched Cassandra and Cullen himself. When they arrived in Solas’ room, the three mages were already waiting.

“Well, this is an odd group,” Dorian observed from where he was lounging in one of the Solas’ spare chairs.

“I wanted everyone who knew anything about lyrium,” Jeremy said grimly. “We have a problem and I… I don’t know if we can actually fix it.”

“Something to do with Hawke’s arrival?” Cullen asked.

Jeremy nodded. “He has Fenris with him. You’ve met him, haven’t you?”

“Briefly,” Cullen replied with a small nod. “He seemed to be a good man… er, elf, if somewhat prickly.”

“You’ve seen his markings then.”

Cullen looked uncomfortable for a moment. “Yes. They’re… lyrium. I could feel it.”

“They’ve been infected,” Jeremy said bluntly. “By red lyrium.”

There were indrawn breaths from around the table and everyone looked very disturbed.

“Has it affected him?” Solas asked.

“He’s unconscious,” Jeremy replied. “Apparently he has been for some time.”

“Explain these markings to me,” Vivienne said imperiously.

“I can only go with what’s in Varric’s story,” Jeremy said. “But they’re made of lyrium and they were branded into his skin. He used to be a slave in Tevinter. To a magister called…”

“ _Danarius_.” 

The flat angry voice was Dorian’s and they all looked at him with surprise.

“You know him?” Jeremy asked.

Dorian snorted. “Who? Danarius? No, not as such. Though not for lack of trying on Danarius’ part. Oh, not with me, I was barely in my teens when this happened, but Danarius was certainly chasing after my father’s approval since _he’s_ the magister.” He snorted again with a rather disdainful expression that was doing a very poor job of covering his discomfort that was rapidly becoming anger. “Danarius invited the Magister of House Pavus and his son and heir over for wine and discussion and then brought his personal slave in to serve the wine. I was never told the slave’s name but your description of the markings means it can be no other. I’ve never heard of any other slave having lyrium markings.”

“So you’ve met Fenris?”

Dorian shook his head, his face was still dark with anger. “No. I would not call that _meeting_ Fenris. Danarius was preening and had Fenris half-naked, all the better to show off his _handiwork_ in an attempt to impress my father. It didn’t work. My father sent me from the room the moment he laid eyes on the slave. I never knew what happened but I did hear that Danarius left Minrathous the next day for Seheron. The next thing I heard about him was that he was dead.”

“You don’t know anything about how he made those brands?” Jeremy asked.

“No,” Dorian replied and now the anger faded a little to be replaced by a thoughtful expression. “Though I cannot say with any certainty what would have happened to his effects after his death, anything related to magic would most likely have been taken to the Circle of Magi in Minrathous if there were no family members to claim them and I don’t think there were.”

“Can we get our hands on them?”

Dorian grimaced. “Perhaps. I doubt they would give them to me or even to the Inquisitor but…” Now he looked slightly uncomfortable. “I could ask Maevaris or… or my father.” He hesitated a moment before continuing, “My… my father is more likely to have success.”

Jeremy looked somewhat uncomfortable as well. Though he knew that there had been a small measure of reconciliation between Dorian and his father, he also knew that Dorian was still struggling to find any kind of forgiveness. Not that he expected Dorian to forgive his father for what he’d tried to do. Some things were unforgiveable.

“Dorian…” he began.

“I’ll ask him,” Dorian said hurriedly. “I’m not so selfish as to let Fenris die simply because something makes me uncomfortable.”

Jeremy gave him a look of gratitude. “Thank you.”

He got a weak smile in return and Jeremy promised himself that he’d find a way to thank Dorian, personally and with great relish, later.

“In the meantime,” Vivienne said briskly. “Let us go and see this young elf and see if there is anything we can do for him.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” Cullen said awkwardly. “There’s not much I could contribute and…” He broke off and rubbed the back of his neck.

Jeremy nodded. The last thing Cullen should be around was lyrium, especially red lyrium. “That’s okay. But if you think of anything that might be relevant, no matter how small, let me know.”

Cullen nodded and made a beeline for the door that lead to his office. After a nod to Jeremy, Cassandra followed him. Jeremy watched them go then lead the others to Hawke’s room. The other mage barely acknowledged their entrance. He was lying beside Fenris on the bed, curled around the unconscious elf, his expression one of misery and despair.

“Hawke,” Jeremy said softly. “These are the best mages the Inquisition has to offer. Will you let them look at Fenris?”

Hawke looked over at them. “This is my fault,” he said bleakly. “I left him behind because I wanted to keep him safe and…” His voice broke. “And now I’ve gotten him killed.”

For a moment no one knew how to react then Vivienne walked over to the bed.

“Nonsense, my dear,” she said, sitting down on the side of the bed and placing a hand on Hawke’s arm. “Red lyrium is insidious. And unless you profess to have knowledge of these markings beyond what anyone else does, neither of you could have known this might happen.”

“I should have brought him with me,” Hawke said miserably.

“Perhaps but you did not and you cannot change that.” Vivienne gave him an arch look. “Now will you weep about it or will you help us find a way to fix this?”

Hawke gave a start at her deliberately harsh words and for a moment he looked like he wanted to bite her head off but then he looked at her more closely and seemed to see something in her eyes that the others could not. He nodded and sat up, though he kept one hand on Fenris at all times.

“I am going to write to my father,” Dorian offered as he approached the bed. “He is a magister and though he didn’t really know Danarius, he may be able to get us a copy of Danarius’ notes if they were taken to the Circle after his death.”

Hawke blinked and frowned. “You’re… from Tevinter?”

Dorian nodded. “I am.”

“You… don’t know what he did?” Hawke asked with a frown.

“No,” Dorian said with a grimace of distaste. He gestured towards Fenris. “This is outright cruelty of the worst sort.” He sighed. “And yes, I’m aware of the general opinion of slavery here in the south but that’s not the topic of this discussion. No one I knew would ever treat a slave like this. Danarius was…”

“A bastard,” Jeremy finished for him.

Dorian snorted. “ _That_ is an understatement.”

Hawke seemed to relax at that and shifted enough to give the four mages access to his lover. He could see the way they flinched at the feel of the red lyrium, the little hum of it inside their heads. He hated it as well but he’d be damned if he let that get in the way. He loved Fenris and he’d do anything to fix this.

After several minutes of low voiced discussion and a few spells, the four Inquisition mages stepped back. They all looked grim.

“The only way to do anything right now would be to remove the brands entirely,” Vivienne said stiffly. The situation seemed to have penetrated even her cool calmness. “But if we were to try that…”

“We would likely kill him,” Solas concluded. He looked over at Hawke. “Thus far the infection seems limited to the markings themselves. It has not spread any further within him.” He frowned thoughtfully. “I wonder…”

“What?” Hawke said sharply. “If you know something…”

Solas held up one hand. “It is speculation and little more but we have nothing more than speculation until we can see Danarius’ notes. However, until then we need to stabilise Fenris.” He arched an eyebrow at Hawke. “You have used magic on these markings in the past. I could sense the traces of it underneath the effects of the red lyrium.”

They were all surprised to see Hawke flush and look bashful. “I… yes.”

“For what purpose?” Solas asked.

The blush became more pronounced. “I… Maker’s _breath_ …” Hawke looked both embarrassed and faintly amused. “If I… feed magic into them, just a little, not too much, then it’s…” He licked his lips and ran a hand through Fenris’ hair, an action that seemed to comfort him in some small way. “Arousing. For Fenris. And me for that matter. Just not the same way.”

Silence greeted that admission then Dorian snorted with amusement and nudged Jeremy. “I told you there was a place for magic in the bedroom.”

“ _Dorian_ ,” Jeremy admonished, though a smile played around his lips for a moment.

Solas looked faintly amused at all of them in a vaguely ‘ _let the children play_ ’ manner. “Your magic has been stabilising the markings,” he said to Hawke.

Hawke’s embarrassment disappeared in an instant and he frowned. “What do you mean by stabilising the markings?”

“The markings are not natural. _Obviously_ ,” Solas said dryly. When he continued he was clearly picking his words with care. “They need regular… maintenance from a mage. I cannot say whether this was the intention of this Danarius person or merely a side effect of the magic used to place them. Irrespective of that, the red lyrium infection is destabilising them far more than would happen normally.”

“Ah, so that was what we were seeing,” Dorian said, looking satisfied that he’d had a question answered.

“Indeed,” Solas said with a nod. 

Hawke was scowling now. “So Danarius did something that essentially leashed Fenris to a mage for the rest of his life.”

“Yes,” Solas replied then he smiled slightly. “So it is lucky that he found one who loves him.”

Hawke blinked then his expression softened and he glanced down at Fenris. “I… yes, I do.”

“We shall have to monitor this to see if my supposition is correct but I believe that if you continue to feed magic into the markings, you may be able to stabilise them long enough for Danarius’ notes to reach us. Your magic also seems to be keeping the red lyrium infection within the markings, which is a good thing, though how and why it is doing this is currently a mystery.” Solas sighed. “If we can keep doing that until we can get Danarius’ notes, we may be able to find a more permanent solution.”

“Whatever it takes,” Hawke said. 

“Very well. Let us begin now.” Solas stepped forward to stand beside Hawke.

“I’ll go and write that letter,” Dorian said, turning and heading for the door.

“I shall stay and observe so that more of us know what must be done,” Vivienne added.

Jeremy sighed. “And I have a meeting I can’t avoid.” He looked at Solas. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“Of course, Inquisitor,” Solas said before leaning forward to speak to Hawke.

******

Hawke curled around Fenris and buried his face in his lover’s white hair. He could feel the unsettling thrum of the red lyrium but he ignored it. So far Solas’ suggestion had been working. By feeding magic into the brands on a regular basis, they had been able to keep the red lyrium from spreading further or doing any more damage. However Fenris had not woken even once and Hawke would privately admit that he was terrified.

He’d thought he was doing the right thing by leaving Fenris behind but instead this had happened. How it had happened was unknown until Fenris woke and could tell him. He knew that it was entirely possible that this might have happened if he had been with Fenris but that didn’t make him feel any less guilty. He just wished he could do _one thing_ without messing everything up.

“Hawke.”

The whisper was so quiet that he almost didn’t hear it. But he couldn’t have missed the way Fenris shifted in his embrace.

“ _Fenris_ ,” he breathed. When he looked down, he could see Fenris’ eyes were open though he seemed a touch disconnected. “Are… how do you feel?”

“Something is wrong,” Fenris said with a hint of distress in his voice.

“I… I know,” Hawke shifted so that he could cradle Fenris’ face in his hands. “Your markings have been infected with red lyrium.”

For a moment Fenris didn’t seem to understand what had been said then the elf moaned and tried to crawl away from Hawke. The mage didn’t let him, wrapping his arms around his lover.

“Fenris! It’s okay. Please! _Please_.”

Fenris slowly stilled. “You… you should not be so close. Hawke… Garrett, you’re a mage. The lyrium…”

“I don’t care,” Hawke said fiercely. “I’m not leaving. Not anymore. Never again.”

The strength seemed to flow out of Fenris and he curled towards Hawke with the ghost of a whimper. “I… it hurts. I can hear it…. singing inside me. Corrupting me.”

Hawke’s embrace tightened but he made sure his horror did not show when he spoke. “We’re trying to find answers, Fenris. I promise.”

“How?”

“There’s a Tevinter mage here. He’s contacted his father about getting hold of Danarius’ notes. He thinks they’ll have been taken to the Circle in Minrathous.” Hawke ran a hand through Fenris’ hair. “One of the other mages here, Solas, thinks that once we know what was done, we can find a way to… to fix this.”

“If I do not die first,” Fenris said, his expression bleak. “Or go mad.” His voice wavered on that last word and Hawke winced, remembering what had happened to Bartrand… and to Meredith.

“You won’t,” Hawke said firmly. “We’ve stabilised you.” He sighed. “It turns out that… thing we’ve been doing with magic…”

“Which thing?” Fenris said dryly and Hawke was relieved to hear a bit of something familiar from his lover.

He managed a brief grin. “That thing that turns you on so much. Feeding magic into your markings?”

He felt Fenris shift a little in his embrace. “I… yes,” he said with a hint of embarrassment and shame

Hawke moved to speak softly in his lover’s ear. He hated hearing those emotions in Fenris’ voice and he intended to put a stop to that. “Maker, I love watching that. The way you arch into my touch. How hard you get. How you eventually break and shove me to the bed and just fuck me senseless.”

“ _Garrett_ ,” Fenris said hoarsely. “Do not tease when I cannot…”

“Sorry, sorry.” Hawke pressed a kiss to Fenris’ forehead. “Consider it long term foreplay. You can get me back later.” He smiled at the hoarse, desperate bark of laughter he got for that then he sobered. “Danarius was a bastard and I wish we could kill him again. The markings aren’t stable. I don’t know whether he intended it that way or whether he just didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. But they need to be stabilised by magic.”

Fenris went still and tense in his arms and Hawke peppered kisses over his lover’s face. “You know I would never…” He broke off and when he continued, his voice was shaking. “I would _never_ … Fenris… I love you. Please say you know that. Please say you know I would _never_ take advantage of that.”

Fenris relaxed again and rested his forehead against Hawke’s. “I… I do know that.” His voice was hesitant but it became more confident as he spoke. “I know that, Garrett. It is… no surprise to find Danarius did this.”

“Fucking bastard,” Hawke said bitterly. “But… what we’ve been doing, it’s been enough to keep them stable.”

Fenris was silent for a moment then he snorted. “At least it is pleasurable.”

Hawke laughed though there was little actual amusement in the sound. “Anyway, doing that now has been keeping the red lyrium at bay.”

“Is it safe? For you.”

Hawke nodded. “Yes. The magic is only going one way and as long as we don’t stay in contact with the actual markings for too long, there’s no risk.”

“We?” Fenris asked. As he did he noted that he had been changed into a long sleeve shirt and breeches. The only parts of his markings that were visible were the ones on his neck and chin, his hands and his feet. And Hawke was being careful not to touch them with his bare hands.

Hawke smiled a little. “The other mages. Jeremy, Dorian, Solas and Vivienne. They won’t let me do it all since it needs to be done several times a day and they refuse to let me exhaust myself.” His smile faded. “I… you don’t mind? I’ve been here the whole time. I’ve never left you alone with them. I’ve monitored everything they’ve done. And I would have stopped them in an instant if they’d tried anything beyond what was agreed to. I swear to you.”

Fenris nodded wearily even as the urge to cringe rippled through him. He hated the idea of other mages touching him, let alone using their magic on him, but he was also aware that he had little choice. He was dying… or worse. If this could help then he could swallow his distrust for a short while. “As long… as you are here.” He paused for a moment. “Garrett, you know that…”

“No!” Hawke shook his head. “No. We are not thinking that or saying it. We will find a way to fix this. I… I’m not losing you.”

Fenris swallowed and curled into Hawke’s embrace. He did not have Hawke’s confidence. He could feel the red lyrium inside him, lurking at the edges of his mind, and it made him feel unclean and sick. He could not see any way of _fixing_ this other than the obvious. Perhaps one of the others would be willing to distract Hawke long enough for him to find a blade and see it done?

******

Dorian read through the papers that were spread out on Solas’ table. For once it was nothing to do with the Fade or rifts or whatever else Solas was studying. Halward Pavus had come through and had sent a copy of all of Danarius’ magical research. Dorian had immediately brought it down to Solas and summoned the others. Now he was quite happy to throw himself into research rather than think about the letter that had accompanied the papers or that his father had gone above and beyond what they had asked for by sending them every piece of research Danarius had carried out, whether it was relevant to the matter at hand or not.

“Your people are meticulous in their note taking,” Solas observed from where he was sitting.

“We’re trained that way,” Dorian replied. “Especially if we’re inclined to experimentation.” He snorted. “If for no other reason than so someone can explain to our families why and how we’ve reduced ourselves to a smear on the carpet.”

He caught the amused look Solas shot him out of the corner of his eye but any further conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Vivienne and Jeremy. Soon all four mages were deep in study, reading through the notes and occasionally exchanging pieces of paper and tossing ideas around. None of them were surprised that Hawke had declined to join them. The mage had scarcely stepped out of his room and even then only to wash because Fenris complained of the smell in one of his increasingly rare lucid moments.

It took them the better part of three days to read through everything and only then did each of them offer ideas. Whereupon they found that all of them had come to the same conclusion.

“There is only one certain way to fix this,” Solas said bluntly. “Remove the markings entirely. The red lyrium is entirely contained within the markings.”

“We could kill him if we try that,” Jeremy objected. “And even if it didn’t, it would certainly be painful, probably as painful as when they were placed originally.”

They all fell silent at that. Hawke had told them that having the markings put in place had caused so much pain that Fenris had no memories of his life before. They were all loathe to put the elf – and Hawke – through that again.

“There is perhaps another way. It’s not quite as certain but perhaps it is better,” Dorian said slowly, tapping one finger on his bottom lip as he thought. “The spell Danarius used to place the markings has its roots in an old Tevinter translocation spell that’s rarely used anymore because it’s considered unreliable. Obviously his version translocates small pieces of skin and flesh and replaces them with lyrium. Hence the pain. We would be translocating the lyrium out entirely and leaving open wounds. Also painful. But what if we translocated the infected lyrium in the brands out and replaced it with fresh lyrium?”

“How would that be any less painful?” Vivienne asked. “It hardly seems so.”

“Ah,” Dorian said with a raised finger and a small smirk. “That is where we get clever. Because we are translocating like for like, his body is less likely to see it as an intrusion. Add to the fact that we’re talking about lyrium here. Fenris’ body has gotten used to the lyrium and assimilated it, adapted to it. He uses it to power his abilities. It has become an inherent part of him, which I believe would be part of the problem were we to remove it for good. His body would object to losing it in addition to the simple pain of removal. So if we layer a healing spell and perhaps also a restoration spell on it as we replace each section, we can minimise the body’s reaction and hopefully minimise the amount of pain. It would still hurt but hopefully not so much that we ruin Fenris’ memories.”

“That… might work,” Solas said thoughtfully. “We would have to do it all in one go however. If we did it piecemeal we would only give the red lyrium a chance to infect the new lyrium.”

“Alright,” Jeremy said. “We have a possible solution. Now let’s see if we can refine it and make it a definite solution before we go and talk to Fenris and Hawke.”

The others nodded and they all leaned in and started talking.

******

The next morning Jeremy and Dorian let themselves into Hawke’s room. They paused at the sight before them. Fenris’ markings were now glowing red but that didn’t seem to deter Hawke. He held his lover tightly in his embrace and spoke to him quietly about anything and everything. Fenris responded when he could though mostly he was silent, lost in the fight against the pain and corruption from the tainted lyrium or just lost in the delirium the red lyrium caused.

They were just relieved to see Fenris was lucid at the moment. Though their efforts had kept the taint confined to the markings, the red lyrium had been affecting Fenris nonetheless. He’d had moments where he had raved and ranted, moments where he had hallucinated, even moments where he had been violent. Hawke had weathered all of these.

“We have something,” Jeremy said as he and Dorian walked over and stood at the end of the bed. “We think it will work.”

“Think?” Hawke said with a raised eyebrow. The mage looked haggard and exhausted.

“This is highly experimental,” Dorian replied. “But even Madame Vivienne concurs with us so… yes, we think it will work.”

“What is it?” Fenris asked. He looked tired and almost broken and Cole had taken to haunting the corridor outside the room. He seemed unwilling to disturb them, especially after Varric had spoken to him, but he also seemed unable to leave.

“We’ve pulled apart the spell Danarius used to put the lyrium there in the first place,” Jeremy explained, “and put it back together in a slightly different form and we’ll be using it to replace the tainted lyrium with fresh lyrium.”

“Our first thought was to remove the markings entirely,” Dorian said, picking up the thread of the explanation. “However we believe that would cause as much pain as placing them in the first place, perhaps even more.”

“And I would lose my memories again,” Fenris said flatly. “No. I am not starting over for a second time.”

Dorian nodded. “Yes, that does seem likely and we rather thought you would not find that a palatable option. So we have altered the spell to replace the lyrium and incorporated a healing spell to reduce the damage and hopefully the pain.” He paused and compassion filled his face. “And it will be painful. There is no way to avoid that. We can give you a potion that will make it easier but we will need you awake and able to communicate.” 

_In case things go wrong_ , were the unspoken words that they all heard anyway.

“This should also make your markings more stable,” Jeremy added. “We definitely tried to make sure that would be a part of the spell.” He licked his lips. “It’s going to take all four of us though. Dorian and I will do the replacement and Solas and Vivienne will take care of the healing part. And… we’re going to have to do it in one go. We can’t stop. Otherwise we risk the tainted lyrium infecting the new lyrium we put in.”

Fenris shuddered and Hawke murmured softly in his ear. Finally the elf nodded. “I have little choice.”

“I… no, not really,” Jeremy replied. He looked sombre and pale. 

“I’ll be here,” Hawke said. “I won’t leave you and I won’t let them do anything else to you.”

Fenris nodded then looked over at Jeremy. “When?”

“Today,” the Inquisitor replied. “You’re lucid and I think we should take advantage of that. We already have everything ready, including the lyrium.”

“Very well,” Fenris said, closing his eyes.

Jeremy and Dorian exchanged glances and left the room. They were back within half an hour with Vivienne and Solas, all of them carrying books or notes or various types of equipment. They quickly set things up then Jeremy ducked back outside the room.

“He’s asked Blackwall and the Iron Bull to essentially stand guard outside,” Dorian explained. “They probably won’t be needed but there’s no way of knowing what might happen and he’d rather plan for the worst and not need those plans than have the worst happen and not be ready.”

Fenris would much rather have kept the number of people knowing about this to just those in the room but he couldn’t deny that the Inquisitor had to think about more than just one elf.

“I am hardly in a position to object,” he said, slumping more against Hawke.

Jeremy returned then and closed the door firmly behind him. He walked over to the bed and now his expression became somewhat awkward.

“I… er… we need to be able to access the markings,” he said. “All of them.”

It took a moment for the meaning of that to register with both of them and Fenris turned his face into Hawke’s neck as humiliation burned through him. Danarius had often put him on display, forcing him to stand naked while other mages oohed and ahhed and inspected the markings like he was nothing more than a particularly interesting pet or even an animate statue. While he had been naked in the presence of Hawke and even some of the others among their friends since then, it had always been by his choice, a choice he didn’t have right now. He could feel Hawke’s hands caressing his face and his murmured words of comfort then he turned back to the Inquisitor.

“Do what must be done,” he said with bitter anger. “What choice do I have?”

He remained passive, his attention turning inward as Hawke and Jeremy gently stripped him. But he was quickly forced to turn his attention outwards again as the singing of the red lyrium became overwhelming in his mind and started to force memories he had long ago submerged to the surface. He gasped and clutched at Hawke’s hands.

“Shhh,” Hawke said, holding his hands tightly, utterly uncaring of the red lyrium coming into contact with his skin. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen.”

“Danarius may have been a power-crazed madman who deserved to die the way he did but you can’t deny he had an eye for beauty,” they heard the Tevinter mage say.

“Dorian,” the Inquisitor admonished. “Now is not the time or place.”

“I know, I know,” Dorian replied, sounding rather abashed. 

Jeremy laid a hand on Fenris’ shoulder. “Are you ready?”

Fenris nodded and allowed Hawke to help him drink the bitter potion Vivienne provided. The potion took effect quickly, leaving him floating and feeling rather dissociated from his body.

Jeremy looked over at the others. “Ready?” When they nodded, he looked over at Hawke. “You?”

“No, but go ahead anyway,” Hawke replied.

So they began. Jeremy and Dorian worked quickly, weaving the spell along the markings, starting at Fenris’ chin. Solas and Vivienne followed them deftly, healing and restoring what they could. Hawke cradled Fenris as close as he could without getting in the way and murmured to him, trying to distract him from the growing pain. Danarius’ notes had indicated that he had strapped Fenris down during the original procedure, to keep him still through the pain, but none of them were going to do that now. 

Finally the agony of having the red lyrium ripped out and replaced got the better of both the potion and Fenris’ natural stoicism and he began to whimper and moan with pain, tears spilling from his eyes. He tried to pull away but they held whatever part they were working on still and Hawke kept talking and talking, trying to hold his attention.

“No… no, please! Master, stop! It hurts!” Fenris whimpered.

Hawke made a strangled sound, knowing they had just lost Fenris to his long-buried memories. He held on though, continuing his soft caresses and murmured words, even as Fenris begged his dead master for mercy, sounding impossibly young.

It took nearly three hours to replace all of the lyrium and Fenris remained conscious, if not lucid, throughout it all. When it was done, he slumped back into Hawke’s arms and gasped, his head lolling to one side. He seemed entirely unaware of where he was.

“Has it worked?” Hawke asked, his voice hoarse after talking for so long. 

Jeremy watched as Vivienne carried the warded container containing the tainted lyrium out of the room. All four mages were exhausted and shaken. It had been difficult to keep going in the face of Fenris’ distress but they couldn’t stop. Stopping would have been far worse. He then cast a spell over the elf to confirm what he already suspected, given the absence of the unsettling singing of the red lyrium. 

“Yes,” he said with a sigh of relief. “There’s no sign of red lyrium in him now.”

Solas stepped forward and placed a hand on Jeremy’s arm. “Come.” He looked over at Hawke. “There is nothing more we can do so we shall leave you now. If you need us for anything, let us know.”

Solas ushered both Dorian and Jeremy out of the room, accepting Hawke’s nod of thanks with a small smile. He was relieved that Solas seemed to understand Fenris had likely had enough of mages poking and prodding at him to last a lifetime and his recovery would be better served with Hawke alone remaining. And there was little anyone could do for him now except let him rest.

Hawke shifted them under the blankets on the bed and simply held his lover. Fenris had barely moved since the procedure had ended and Hawke was terrified that the same thing had happened as the first time. If Fenris no longer remembered him… well, that was something he just didn’t want to think about.

He didn’t know how long they lay there before Fenris moved towards him and murmured, “Hawke.”

He let out a huge sigh of relief and his arms tightened around his lover. “Fenris. Thank the Maker.”

“Did it work?” Fenris whispered, his voice dripping with exhaustion.

“Yes,” Hawke replied. “No more red lyrium. Just... the ordinary stuff.” He hesitated. “Do… do you still remember…”

“I remember no more than I did yesterday,” Fenris replied, his voice slurring as sleep started to claim him. “But I remember no less.”

Relief washed over Hawke and he pressed a kiss to Fenris’ forehead. His lover went slack against him and he closed his own eyes, willing to finally sleep properly now that Fenris was safe.

******

“I am fine, Hawke.” Fenris stood in the middle of the room with his arms crossed over his chest and a look of anger on his face. He was wearing his armour and had his sword slung on his back. He had intended to go out and do some sparring but Hawke was standing between him and the door and refusing to move.

“It’s only been three days,” Hawke said, a mulish expression on his face.

“I will not be held prisoner in this room,” Fenris snarled.

Hawke slumped and a look of misery replaced the mulish expression. “I… I’m not trying to hold you prisoner, Fenris. I’m just… _worried_. It’s only been three days. You _have_ to give yourself more time to recover.”

Fenris sighed and wished he was more immune to Hawke’s puppy eyes as Merrill might call them. But he never had been, even before he was willing to admit his feelings for the mage. He was still feeling a lingering weakness from what had happened but the need for fresh air and to just be able to move around freely was even more urgent.

“I do not intend to push myself too hard. I just need to be outside for a time.”

Now it was Hawke’s turn to sigh and he closed the gap between them. He brought his hand up to run his fingers over the markings on Fenris’ chin and neck, gentle brushes that had Fenris shivering without even a trace of magic being used on them. It made him wonder if the new markings were more sensitive than the old ones or whether that was just all in his head.

“I’m sorry. I’m being an arse, aren’t I?” Hawke said with a rueful smile.

“Yes,” Fenris said dryly and smiled at Hawke’s laugh.

Hawke sobered. “I don’t mean to. I just… I nearly lost you, Fenris. You… you scared me.”

Fenris cupped Hawke’s cheek. “I… confess I scared myself. I should have contacted you when I first realised something was wrong.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Fenris sighed. “I was… angry.”

“I left Mason with you,” Hawke said plaintively. “I thought you’d realise that I really meant I was coming back because of that alone.”

“I… was not thinking properly,” Fenris admitted. He knew now that he should have realised that Hawke would never leave his mabari behind unless he was coming back… and that Mason would never stay otherwise. The mabari had been left with the Inquisition forces in the small village he’d been in when he’d finally collapsed. Hawke had travelled part of the way on horseback and Mason would not have been able to keep up. Fenris half-suspected the mabari would find his way here sooner rather than later.

“Maker, Fenris,” Hawke said, trying to find a way to say what he meant without being unkind. But it hurt that Fenris still didn’t trust him, not entirely.

Fenris seemed to see it in his face anyway. “I… forgive me, Garrett.” He leaned against Hawke then raised his head and captured Hawke’s lips in a searing kiss. 

Hawke moaned into the kiss and pulled Fenris tight against him. He grunted as parts of Fenris’ armour dug into uncomfortable places and broke the kiss. “You know, this would be much nicer if you weren’t wearing this.” He flicked a finger against the armour.

“Is that so?” Fenris said with a smirk. “And what will you do about that?”

An answering smirk grew on Hawke’s face. “I thought you wanted to go outside.”

“Convince me otherwise.”

“Alright then,” Hawke said with a laugh and quickly went to work on Fenris’ armour.

******

“You know, there’s one question we never asked,” Jeremy said. He was lounging in a chair in his quarters and Dorian, Hawke, Fenris, Solas and Vivienne were also present.

“What is that?” Fenris said. He seemed uncomfortable being in the presence of so many mages but that was being offset by the fact that Hawke was practically curled around him as they sprawled on the couch and that seemed to bring out a softness in Fenris that was warring with his dislike of magic in quite amusing ways for those watching them. They’d already been witness to the argument between the two when Hawke had insisted that Fenris lie down and Fenris had insisted he was fine. The elf had lost that argument when Hawke had given him a truly pathetic look of woe. Dorian had remarked wryly that he’d dare anyone to defy Hawke in the face of that expression.

“How _did_ you get infected?”

There was a moment of silence as they all realised the Inquisitor was right. That was a question that had been lost in the need to fix the problem. The why and how hadn’t really mattered at that time.

“I was hunting a band of Tevinter slavers,” Fenris said, breaking the silence. “I’d lost their trail in the forest and I was trying to regain it when I stumbled across a hut in a clearing. There was an old woman living there. She’d seen them go past when she was out looking for mushrooms a few days prior to my arrival. She’d hidden from them but she knew the area and suspected they were holed up in a cave not far away.”

“You followed obviously,” Hawke said with a small frown.

Fenris nodded. “She was able to draw a rough map. I found the cave but if they were using it, they’d abandoned it a while back. I decided to explore it thoroughly in the hope of finding out where they might have gone and I… I don’t know if I triggered a trap or the ground was just unstable and that was why they abandoned the place. Either way, I fell into a pit. It was full of red lyrium shards, as though they’d smashed them and left them in there deliberately.” He shuddered and Hawke’s embrace tightened. “It must have happened then. Some of the shards were very fine and that is the only time I have been near red lyrium.”

“Sounds about right,” Jeremy said with a grimace. “How did you get out?”

“I was able to climb out,” Fenris said with a shrug. “The walls of the pit were not smooth nor were they overly high. Anyone could have climbed out even if they were injured.”

“Which means it wasn’t meant to be a trap to kill someone but to… infect them?” Hawke said. He looked angry.

Jeremy and Dorian exchanged glances.

“When we went to speak to the mages in Redcliffe, Dorian and I were thrown into the future,” Jeremy said slowly. “Or _a_ possible future. Anyway, that doesn’t matter. What does matter is that in that future we saw that they were using people to… to grow the red lyrium. Grand Enchanter Fiona was half engulfed by it and… Cassandra and Varric were infected.”

“We don’t know much about the red lyrium and that wasn’t really the time or place to learn more,” Dorian added. “But even if that was the purpose behind this pit, that doesn’t explain why? It sounds like it was in the middle of nowhere.”

“Could it have been deliberate?” Vivienne asked. “It does rather sound like Fenris was lead there on purpose.”

Hawke stiffened and unravelled himself a bit from Fenris. “You mean… a deliberate attempt to infect Fenris? Why? What would be the purpose behind that?”

“To get to you?” Jeremy suggested. 

Fenris snarled at that, a brief angry noise that had eyebrows going up around the room. They had never seen the elf’s more protective side.

“I made no secret of the fact that Hawke was not with me,” he snapped. 

“But if you did get infected, they’d assume you’d send for him or go to him… whatever,” Jeremy replied. “Maybe they thought they could draw him out. Or that you could pass the infection on.”

“That still doesn’t answer the question as to why,” Hawke said, looking both irritated and uncomfortable. “I’m not…” He grimaced and sighed. “I’m no hero. I couldn’t even save my damn city from getting blown up. I’m not any kind of saviour.”

Jeremy ran a hand through his hair. “Look, we’re just winding ourselves up for no purpose right now. We don’t know why but we can maybe find out. Fenris, if you can give us a general idea of where that hut was and the cave, I can get Leliana to send some people out to speak to that old woman and investigate the cave. Maybe we can find some answers.”

Fenris nodded stiffly. “Very well.”

******

“When do you plan to head to Weisshaupt?”

Hawke slumped in his chair across the table from the Inquisitor and stared down into his tankard of ale. Skyhold’s tavern served a better standard of ale than the Hanged Man but considering the complete nug piss the Hanged Man served, that wasn’t saying much. “I don’t know.” 

He glanced over to where Fenris was talking with the Iron Bull. From what he’d heard earlier when he’d gotten his drink, they were comparing fighting techniques. He snickered to himself. They looked odd together, especially considering both of them wielded large two-handed weapons. The mental image sat well with Bull, being so huge, but people were always surprised to see the smaller, slender Fenris swinging his enormous sword around with such ease.

“I know I need to but… I can’t leave Fenris behind again and I don’t want him anywhere near red lyrium, which means I get twitchy every time I even think about leaving Skyhold, given how prevalent that stuff is becoming out there _and_ given that we still don’t know what the story is with that cave he ended up in.” He ran a hand down his face. “I don’t think I could do this again. I _know_ he couldn’t.”

“We could send one of the Grey Wardens we have here,” Jeremy suggested.

“None of them are senior enough.”

“Neither are you,” Jeremy pointed out. “At least they’re Grey Wardens. Senior or not, surely the Wardens at Weisshaupt will listen to one of their own.”

“One of their own…” Hawke sat up suddenly, his eyes wide as an idea struck him. “I… may have a compromise between what feel I need to do and what I want to do.”

“Oh?” Jeremy said with a raised eyebrow.

“Can Leliana get a message to someone in Rivain?”

Jeremy snorted. “I think Leliana could get a message to the Ariqun in Qunandar if she really needed to. Rivain would be easy. Why?”

“Last I heard Carver was up that way. Aveline sent a message that she’d had to return to Kirkwall but she’d left Carver in Isabela’s capable if slightly wandering hands,” Hawke replied. “Carver’s a Grey Warden and he’s my brother so he’s the best of both worlds.” He rolled his eyes. “In a manner of speaking.”

“Good idea,” Jeremy said with a nod. “Speak with Leliana and tell her I said to go ahead.”

Hawke sat back with a sigh of relief. “Obviously I’ll help however I can here in return.”

“What if I want to send you and Fenris out on missions?” Jeremy asked. “Because you know I can’t ask just you. He’ll find out and as much as that phasing, hand-in-the-chest trick Varric described sounds interesting, I don’t really want to experience it firsthand.”

Hawke groaned and let his forehead knock against the table once before raising his head again. “I… yeah, okay. I guess I’m going to have to get used to it, aren’t I? I can’t keep him here forever.”

Jeremy smiled ruefully. “No, you can’t. But I can at least make sure you go out together and try and assign you things that don’t involve the Red Templars.”

“Give us Venatori mages,” Hawke said. “He loves killing Tevinters.”

“You know, it’s that sort of thing that makes me feel all warm and loved,” Dorian said lightly as he dropped down into the seat next to Jeremy.

Hawke laughed. “Well, present company excluded. He’s decided you’re alright.”

“Really?” Dorian looked amused. “Are those his friendly scowls?”

“Pretty much.” Hawke grinned at them. “You think I’m kidding, don’t you? Scowl is kind of Fenris’ default setting for most people, even more so for mages.”

“You must find him so charming,” Dorian said dryly.

Hawke’s grin became distinctly lascivious. “He certainly has his charms.” The other two men laughed and Hawke shrugged and smiled more genuinely. “I get to see what’s behind his defensive walls. Most don’t. He has… trust issues.”

“I can’t imagine why.” 

“That reminds me,” Jeremy said, resting one arm on the back of Dorian’s chair. “I should write to your father and thank him.”

Dorian’s expression became somewhat discomforted and he leaned back against Jeremy’s arm. “I’ve… already done so.”

“Hell, _I_ should write to him and thank him,” Hawke said, taking a drink. “I owe him a lot.”

“All this thanks from southern savages,” Dorian said, trying to cover his uneasiness with banter. “He won’t know what to do with it.”

“Alright,” Jeremy said with a firm look at his lover. “You’ve been all… nervy ever since he sent Danarius’ notes. What gives?”

“I have _not_ ,” Dorian objected then he sighed. “Well, yes, I suppose I have. There was a letter… for me. Actually addressed to me this time and not our dear Mother Giselle. He told me he hadn’t actually disowned me and that he hoped that one day I’d come home again.”

Jeremy looked surprised then sceptical. “ _Right_. Under what conditions?”

“He didn’t say.” Dorian snorted. “But yes, he could hardly want me back as… as I am. Nor… with you.” He raised his chin defiantly. “And that is entirely unacceptable.”

Jeremy smiled softly and leaned over to kiss Dorian. “Good.”

Hawke had been watching this with a frown. “I think I’m missing something here.”

Jeremy and Dorian exchanged glances. “Ah… well,” Dorian began. “Tevinter society is not exactly accepting of…” He waved a hand between himself and Jeremy.

“Two men being together,” Fenris finished for him as he sat down next to Hawke, proving he’d heard that last part of the conversation as he’d approached. “Though they are somewhat more accepting of a man using a male slave for his pleasure.”

The reaction to that last one was interesting. Both Dorian and Jeremy looked uncomfortable but Hawke looked downright murderous. He remembered what Danarius had said when they had confronted him and the unpleasant insinuations in those comments always made his blood boil. Not that he’d ever brought them up with Fenris. He hadn’t quite known how nor was he sure he really wanted them confirmed. Having them denied might set his mind at ease but asking about them to _have_ them denied risked having them _confirmed_ and he always shied away from that possibility.

“Right. Yes,” Dorian said with an uncharacteristic awkwardness. “Fenris has summed it up in a nutshell.”

“But… why?” Hawke asked.

“Because being a part of one of the magisterial families in Tevinter is not about marrying for love or anything frivolous or useless like that,” Dorian said, his voice becoming bitter. “It is about combining bloodlines in order to produce the perfect mage. Perfect mind, perfect body, perfect everything. Anything unnatural or abnormal must be hidden behind closed doors, never to be spoken of, lest you bring shame upon the family. Naturally, I refused to hide.” 

“Right,” Hawke said slowly, one hand sliding over to rest on Fenris’ thigh. “So… your father?” He asked that rather hesitantly.

Dorian snorted. “My father wanted to use blood magic on me to… _change_ me.”

“As you see, I come by my opinions on mages quite naturally,” Fenris said with trenchant sarcasm.

“I have trouble finding it in me to take offence at that,” Dorian said with a sigh. “I am from Tevinter and I have seen the best and worst of it.” He gestured towards Fenris. “I confess I can’t think of anything worse than blood magic and idiot cultists and what was done to you and the best… hardly makes up for that.”

“You’ve never used blood magic,” Jeremy said softly. 

“The last resort of the weak mind,” Dorian said, almost to himself. 

Hawke and Fenris watched with some curiosity as Jeremy winced and pulled Dorian into a gentle kiss.

“Not every Tevinter mage is a bastard,” Jeremy said with a small smile.

Dorian seemed to rally a little at that. “I’ll have you know my parents were well and truly married before little Dorian was even a glimmer in their eyes.”

Jeremy chuckled then looked over at Fenris. “You know, speaking of terrible things that were done and their intended and unintended consequences, are your markings… back to normal? I’ve read the Tale of the Champion and spoken to Varric so I have some idea what you can do with them but are they… the same since we… fixed them?”

Fenris gave him a sour look then rolled his eyes. A moment later, the markings flashed white and he slipped into his lyrium ghost state. He reappeared a second later and the markings faded into their normal state.

“They are working.”

“That’s… really very impressive,” Dorian said with open admiration. He shook his head. “There was no mention of that in Danarius’ notes, at least not the ones regarding his initial plans for them.”

Fenris scowled and then curiosity seemed to grab hold of him. He shifted in his seat and sighed, looking very disgruntled. “What… did they say?”

“We could give you a copy to read if you wanted,” Jeremy offered.

Fenris reared back a little then shook his head. “No.” He hesitated then gave Hawke a sidelong glance, “But I would not object to Hawke reading them.”

“Are you sure?” Hawke asked anxiously.

“I… I trust you,” Fenris admitted.

Hawke beamed and leaned over to kiss Fenris fervently enough to have Jeremy and Dorian laughing and the rest of the tavern whistling and cheering when they saw what was going on. Fenris shoved him away when he heard that but his scowl was marred by the exasperated amusement in his eyes.

“Idiot,” he said, the fondness quite obvious to the others at the table. He quite deliberately looked over at Dorian. “What did the notes say?”

“Wait. Give me a moment. I’m quite overcome,” Dorian said with a grin and a hand on his heart then he sobered. “I’m sure it won’t surprise you to hear that Danarius intended to use you as a… power source. From what I read, that’s all he intended when he placed the lyrium.”

“So he had no idea what he was doing?” Hawke asked incredulously.

“No,” Jeremy replied. “But Solas has a theory that while Danarius was a bastard, he’s not as stupid as that makes him seem. He thinks that it has to do with our lack of understanding about lyrium and what it is and what it can do. We know from what Bianca told us that the red lyrium is Blighted lyrium and the Blight only affects living things.”

Hawke looked a little sick then the name Jeremy had mentioned caught his attention. “Wait… Bianca? As in… _Varric’s_ Bianca? The one I presume he named his crossbow after? She’s… a real person?”

Jeremy grinned. “Yep and she’s a bit of a firebrand too.” He looked thoughtful. “A bit hazy on the whole actions have consequences thing though.” He waved a hand. “Long story, not important.”

“Damn,” Hawke said, shaking his head. “I was half-convinced she was just another story he’d made up. Anyway, you were saying?”

“Well, Solas thinks that the reason Fenris can do what he can with the markings isn’t because of anything Danarius did, intentionally or otherwise,” Jeremy explained. “He thinks it’s because of Fenris.” He looked over at the elf. “What were you doing the first time you used that… ghost effect?”

Fenris frowned. “I… was fighting. We were on Seheron and had been ambushed by a Qunari patrol. There was a Saarebas who was well-positioned and making things difficult and I… remember thinking that if I could get to him unseen, I could end this fight more easily. I remember getting increasingly frustrated and then…” He waved a hand. “I found myself in that state. After that, I found I could initiate it at will. Danarius…” He snarled. “Danarius spent some weeks conducting experiments regarding it.”

Jeremy nodded. “Solas thinks that the abilities you have are there because you needed them at some point and the lyrium provided. That if you were a different kind of person, the abilities would be different.”

“I…” Fenris frowned. “I suppose that makes some sense.”

“Let Hawke read through the notes and I’ll make sure he gets a copy of all of our notes as well,” Jeremy said. He grinned at Hawke. “You might want to find a little nook for yourself somewhere around the place. Everyone seems to have one.”

Fenris eyed them both curiously. “That would imply that we are staying.”

Hawke leaned back and ran a hand down his face. “Yeah, I was thinking about that.”

“In what way?”

“In the way that I haul Carver back here and make him go to Weisshaupt because he’s the Grey Warden and they’re more likely to listen to him and we stay here and help the Inquisitor.” 

Hawke managed to say all of that with an innocent look on his face. Unfortunately for him, Fenris had endless experience with his innocent looks.

“I see,” he arched an eyebrow. “And the reason behind this sudden change of plans?”

“Would you believe strategy?” Hawke said with a grin.

Fenris snorted. “No, since your usual strategy is ‘make it up as we go along’.”

Hawke sobered and prodded at his tankard, ignoring the snickering coming from the other side of the table. “How about a compromise between what I know I _should_ do, what I really _want_ to do and keeping you from killing me for being overprotective?”

“That does sound more realistic,” Fenris said dryly. “How is this a compromise?”

“Well, as I said, Carver goes to Weisshaupt. We stay here and help the Inquisitor with Venatori related stuff because I know how much you love decapitating Tevinters. And maybe we also do some slaver hunting on the side.” He raised his eyebrows at Fenris, looking for all the world like a hopeful puppy. “And we stay well away from anything red lyrium related because… well, because.”

Fenris gave him a long look but finally a sort of exasperated fond amusement won out. “You are ridiculous.”

“So, that means you approve, yes?” Hawke grinned.

“I find that plan acceptable.” He raised an eyebrow. “It remains to be seen whether your brother will agree.”

Hawke sighed. “Yeah, I know. But he takes being a Grey Warden seriously and…” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll convince him. Somehow.”

“You two don’t get along?” Jeremy asked.

“It’s… complicated.” Hawke grimaced. “Partly him being an idiot and partly me being too… _me_ to realise the effect I was having on him. We’ve gotten better though, especially…” He groaned and ran his hand through his hair again. “Especially since the whole thing with Corypheus. I’m going to have to tell him about that, aren’t I?”

“It was part of the reason you were going to Weisshaupt, so yes.”

Hawke’s expression became rather ruefully amused. “This is going to be so much fun.”

******

Jeremy leaned against the War Table and stared down at the pieces marking the various requests and demands that had been made of the Inquisition. Leliana had indicated she wanted to talk to him privately so he waited until Josephine and Cullen had left before he looked up and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Well?”

Leliana frowned and looked down at some of the papers she had in her hand. “I sent people out to the locations Fenris indicated, where the old woman and the cave were supposed to be.”

Jeremy frowned. “Supposed to be? That sounds a bit ominous.”

“They found the cave and the pit of red lyrium. Which they promptly buried under as much rock and dirt as they could until we can come up with a better solution.” Leliana frowned. “They found an abandoned hut as well but there were no signs that anyone was living there now or that anyone had been living there for a long time. Though it had been recently cleaned and tidied up.”

Jeremy grimaced. “That does kind of support the idea that it was a trap.”

“Yes, it does rather, on face value at any rate,” Leliana said dryly. “They asked around the local villages for a woman of the description Fenris gave. No one had seen her but they did find a small handful of people who had taken money to report on any sighting of Fenris. They were given a very good description and were told to leave a mark on a specific tree outside their respective villages if they saw him. They were recruited by a hooded man. They never saw his face.”

“I’m guessing they weren’t told why they should be on the lookout for Fenris?” Jeremy said.

Leliana shook her head. “No and they were paid well enough that they didn’t care.”

“So.” Jeremy leaned against the table and rubbed his chin. “This was deliberate. But was the target Fenris or Hawke?”

“Unknown but, no offense to Fenris, I would assume it was Hawke.” Leliana shuffled her papers then set them down. “Hawke has a reputation for going to great lengths for his friends. For his lover? I can only imagine what he might be willing to do.”

“But… nothing’s happened,” Jeremy replied.

“Yet.”

Jeremy looked sceptical. “It’s a bit late to be putting pressure on Hawke now. We fixed the problem.”

“I know.” Leliana frowned and looked frustrated. “It’s the presence of this woman that has me curious. She deliberately directed Fenris straight to the cave, which implies she is involved in what happened since without her involvement, Fenris may not have found the cave at all. However the informer who saw Fenris was delayed in putting the mark on the required tree. Based on what he said and what Fenris told us of his movements that day, by the time the mark would have been seen, Fenris had been to the cave, fallen in the pit and got himself out. The people involved likely missed him entirely. Now the woman may not have known that but since we know she wasn’t living in the hut, presumably she would have been waiting for the mark to appear to signal her to take her place. So if she was involved, she shouldn’t have been there to direct Fenris at that time. If she’s not involved, why would she deliberately endanger Fenris?”

“So is this woman involved or not?”

Leliana shook her head. “I do not know. I have people still asking questions and looking around. Right now, however, we seem to have only found more questions than answers.”

******

The day Carver arrived at Skyhold had turned out to be bright and sunny and in the resultant good cheer brought on by the favourable weather, an impromptu bout between Fenris and Iron Bull had begun in the lower courtyard. In fairly short order, they were surrounded by onlookers with the Chargers leading the cheer squad for the Iron Bull and Hawke and Jeremy heading Fenris’ backers. Varric was running around taking bets from all and sundry and even Leliana, Josephine and Cullen had been drawn out of their lairs by the cheering and were watching with interest. In the midst of this excitement, only the guards on duty at the gates were initially aware of the arrival of their latest visitor.

Jeremy was in the middle of cheering on Fenris’ latest move, which had sent the Iron Bull staggering backwards, when one of the guards appeared at his elbow.

“Your Worship, there’s a Grey Warden here who says he needs to speak to Ser Hawke.”

Jeremy stepped back and looked over towards the gates. He didn’t recognise the young man but it was easy to figure out who he was. He sent the guard off with a couple of words then found Hawke in the crowd. The Champion had eyes only for his lover and didn’t even notice Jeremy coming up beside him.

“Hawke, I think your brother is here.”

Hawke paused to cheer on a particularly good move from his lover then turned and looked towards the gates. 

“Yeah, that’s Carver,” he said with a grimace.

Hawke spared one more glance to the ongoing bout then the two men headed over.

“Carver!” Hawke said with somewhat overenthusiastic brightness.

Carver instantly looked suspicious and wary. “Brother. What’s going on?”

“Why does there have to be something going on?” Hawke said, trying – and failing – to look innocent.

Carver rolled his eyes. “Because you said you needed my help with something, therefore something is going on.”

“He’s smart, your brother,” Jeremy said with a grin.

A roar from the crowd behind them drew their attention but they couldn’t see what had happened from where they were standing. Whatever it was though, it had money changing hands at a rapid pace.

“What’s going on?” Carver asked.

“Fenris and Bull are beating the crap out of each other,” Hawke said with a grin. “Fenris is going to win.”

Carver rolled his eyes again. From what Jeremy could see, even after only a few minutes, it seemed to be something a default gesture for the younger Hawke brother.

“Who’s Bull?”

“The Iron Bull,” Jeremy replied. “He likes the definite article in front of his name. He’s a Qunari mercenary whose been helping the Inquisition.”

“ _Right_ ,” Carver said slowly. “So why exactly am I here?”

“Let’s go inside,” Jeremy suggested. “We’ll never get anything done out here while the fight’s going on.”

Hawke looked torn for a moment then he sighed and nodded. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Jeremy gestured for the Hawke brothers to accompany him and they went up the stairs and into the main hall. Once there, he took them into the war room.

“This might be the best place for this,” he said as he leaned against the table.

Hawke ran a hand through his hair, all his normal joking manner gone. “Carver, are you… hearing anything right now? In your head, I mean.”

Carver stiffened and stared at Hawke with a frown. “Yes. It wasn’t really noticeable when I was in Rivain but it’s a lot louder now. How did you know?”

“Do you know what it is?”

Carver was silent for a long moment. “Yes, but it’s impossible. I haven’t been a Warden long enough to be hearing the Calling.”

Hawke nodded and gave a sigh of relief. “I know. It’s not real.” He leaned against the table as well. “It’s… Corypheus.”

“Corypheus?” Carver looked indignant. “He’s dead. We killed him.”

“Unfortunately not,” Jeremy said. “He’s very, very _not_ dead. I got a close and personal introduction to him when Haven was destroyed. Hawke and I compared notes. We’re talking about the same… person.”

“And he’s putting his false Calling in my head?” Carver looked indignant at that. “Like he did with Larius and those Carta dwarves?”

Hawke grimaced. “It’s a bit worse than that. The Calling was so strong for the Wardens in Fereldan and Orlais that they… kind of lost their minds over it. They thought it was real and Warden Commander Clarel sort of panicked. She got involved with a Tevinter mage, who was really with the Venatori, and… they were using blood magic to raise a demon army. They thought it was to take into the Deep Roads for one final hurrah to kill the Archdemons before they could rise but in reality, every mage who performed the ritual was bound to Corypheus.”

Carver’s eyes had widened during the explanation but by the end he looked disgusted. “And what of the Warden warriors?” he demanded.

“Some were sacrificed in the blood magic ritual,” Jeremy said. “Some died when we were forced to lay siege to Adamant and those that remain, along with any unbound mages, are now working with the Inquisition.”

“Right.” Carver looked distinctly unhappy and Hawke reflected that his little brother had really grown up in the Wardens. “So why am I here?”

Hawke ran a hand through his hair. “I was supposed to be going to Weisshaupt to tell the Wardens there what had happened and to make sure they hadn’t been caught in the same trap but…” He paled a little. “Something came up.”

“What?” Carver was starting to look impatient.

“I’d… left Fenris behind because I knew he’d… do anything to protect me and I… I had to keep him safe.” A look of misery and remembered horror grew on Hawke’s face and Carver actually began to look concerned. “Instead his… his markings became infected with the red lyrium. Thankfully the innkeeper where he was staying contacted the Inquisition and they contacted me and I got him here and…” He broke off, unable to continue.

“And we were able to find a way to fix what had happened,” Jeremy concluded, grasping Hawke’s shoulder with sympathy. “But Hawke’s a bit twitchy about heading out with all the red lyrium around. It’s… spreading.”

“I just…” Hawke sagged where he was leaning against the table and gave Carver an imploring look. “I can’t do that again, Carver, and I know Fenris couldn’t. It was bad enough this time. So I… I need you to go to Weisshaupt for me.” He sighed, looking as tired as he felt. “You’re probably a better choice anyway. You’re the Grey Warden. They’ll listen to you.”

Carver was looking at his brother like he’d never seen him before then his expression softened a little. “Is Fenris alright?”

“Well, he’s out fighting Bull so, yes, I guess,” Hawke said. 

He didn’t mention the nightmares or the way Fenris occasionally flinched away from his touch like he had when they’d first met. They hadn’t talked about either of those things yet but he knew that they would have to at some point, before it festered any further than it already had.

“You think the infection could happen again?” Carver asked.

Hawke ran a hand down his face. “I don’t know. No one’s really sure but it seems likely that if it happened once, it could happen again.” He slumped a little. “And I’m being stupid and irrational since the red lyrium’s more concentrated around the Templars than the Grey Wardens but…”

Carver grinned. “You’re always stupid and irrational, brother.”

Jeremy snorted with laughter and Hawke rolled his eyes.

“Thank you, Carver.”

Carver looked rather pleased with himself then he sobered. “Look, I’ll go if you want me to but I’m pretty junior in the grand scheme of things. They may not take me seriously.”

Hawke hesitated for a moment. “You’re going to hate this but I think they will if you play up the fact you’re my brother and I specifically sent you.”

Carver sighed and looked decidedly disgruntled. “Right. That again.”

Jeremy looked between the two brothers and made a couple of educated guesses about their relationship. “Whatever it takes,” he said with a shrug. “I can also give you a report on what happened at Adamant and some sort of official… something or other. Josephine will know what will work. If you’re coming to them as a representative of the Champion of Kirkwall _and_ the Inquisitor then that’ll give you the rank you need to get them to listen to you. The fact you’re also a Grey Warden means you can confirm the story about the false Calling rather than it being hearsay, which it would be if Hawke told them.”

Jeremy arched an eyebrow. “Let’s face it, once you get there, you can use Hawke and me to get you a hearing but it’s going to be up to you to convince them.” He scratched his cheek. “I’m not even sure how much of an escort I can offer you. We’ve cut a lot of Corypheus’ plans off at the knees and both Cullen and Morrigan agree that we can expect a response sooner rather than later. I don’t know if I can spare anyone.”

Carver straightened and suddenly he looked less like a disgruntled younger brother and more like an experienced Grey Warden.

“That’s okay. I’m used to travelling on my own.” He frowned. “What about the Grey Wardens you have here?”

“They’re in the south of Orlais at the moment rooting out some problems with Darkspawn,” Jeremy replied. “We’re trying to keep them away from anything Venatori related and busy enough that they can ignore the Calling.”

Carver nodded. “Okay, that’s fair enough. It’ll probably be easier to travel alone anyway. I can avoid the worst of the trouble.”

Jeremy clapped him on the shoulder. “Good. I’ll go and speak to Josephine about all the official stuff.”

The Inquisitor headed out of the room, leaving the two brothers alone.

“Thank you,” Hawke said, leaning against the table. He grimaced. “There’s also something else you should know. Stroud… is dead.”

Carver’s eyes widened. “I knew he’d gone to help you out with something. How did he die?”

“It’s a long story,” Hawke said with a sigh. “But the short version is we ended up in the Fade. Physically in the Fade, not in a dream or anything like that. Me, Stroud, the Inquisitor and a few of his friends. There was a Nightmare demon there. We managed to beat it off for a while but… someone had to stay to distract it and guard the escape of the others. Both Stroud and I volunteered…”

“You _what_?” Carver half-yelled. “Are you insane? What about Fenris? What about me and the rest of our friends?”

Hawke looked miserable. “Yeah, I know. Fenris has already yelled at me about that.” He sighed. “I just felt… it was my fault. Corypheus was my problem to solve.”

“I think he’s a bit bigger than that,” Carver said sounding completely exasperated. “And you’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, thanks for that,” Hawke said, now starting to sound a bit irritated himself.

“Stroud is a Grey Warden, Garrett,” Carver snapped. “And he’s been a Warden for a long time. He knew his Calling was going to come sooner rather than later. Dying in battle is the best way any of us can go. You remember what Larius was like. None of us want to end up like that. Stroud wasn’t sacrificing anything by staying. You were.”

Hawke looked startled. He had a vague idea about what being a Warden was like from what Anders had told him but somehow he’d never considered how long Stroud had been a Warden.

“I didn’t think about that.”

Carver snorted. “You never do.”

“Oh, here we go,” Hawke said with annoyance.

“No, I’m serious,” Carver snapped. “You never _think_ , brother. You act like you know best and no one else could be right. This is a prime example. You have responsibilities _here_ that are far more important than your penchant for dramatics.” He paused and his eyes narrowed as he aimed his next blow extremely low. “Who would have rescued Fenris if you’d sacrificed yourself? No one, that’s who.”

Hawke blanched and he actually staggered a little as the truth of that sunk in. Who would have helped Fenris if he had stayed in the Fade? Would the Inquisition have responded to the tavernkeeper’s plea? They might have but they wouldn’t have known about Danarius or Fenris’ issues with mages. They might have made things a hundred times worse. Either way, Fenris would most likely have died horribly from the red lyrium.

“Fuck,” he whispered, running a shaking hand down his face. 

Carver sighed and relented a little. “Corypheus isn’t _your_ responsibility anyway. He’s the Wardens’ responsibility. We’re the ones who locked him up and then didn’t tell anyone, even each other, even _after_ we killed him first time round. If every Warden had known about him after that, they might have resisted his false Calling because they’d have known he could do that.” He paused for a moment. “And the Wardens are the ones who forced Father into using blood magic to bind him. That’s not your fault or my fault. It’s on them. So I’m going to go to Weisshaupt and get them to start taking responsibility.”

Hawke ran his hand through his hair and gave Carver a weak smile. “When did you decide to grow up?”

“When I joined the Grey Wardens and exchanged dying quickly for dying slowly,” Carver said dryly.

Hawke looked up with a stricken expression on his face and Carver huffed impatiently.

“I was already dying, brother. Just like Aveline’s husband was. Believe me, being a Grey Warden is a better choice than what he got.”

Hawke slumped against the table and sighed. “Why did people trust me with anything again? I just screw things up.”

“At least you tried,” Carver said with a shrug. “That’s more than most people did.”

“That’ll look good on my gravestone,” Hawke said ruefully. “ _At least he tried_.”

“Better than a lot of other options I could think of,” Carver said with a smirk.

Hawke rolled his eyes then pushed himself off the table. “Come on. Let’s go see if Fenris has managed to beat Bull. Jeremy will find us when he’s ready.”

*******

“We’re lost, aren’t we?”

Hawke winced at Fenris’ flat exasperated tone and looked down at the map in his hand. “We’re not _lost_ ,” he said, trying for indignant but only really managing plaintive. “We’re just… not quite where we should be.”

There was a very loaded silence from behind him and he could actually _feel_ Fenris’ glare on the back of his neck.

“You’re judging me, aren’t you? I can feel you judging me without even turning around.”

“ _Hawke_ ,” Fenris growled.

“I’m just saying you have this very tangible judging glare and this map is very hard to follow and I don’t think I deserve your weighty judging glare.”

Fenris growled under his breath and reached around to snatch the map out of Hawke’s hands. It was certainly true that the hand drawn map was not overly detailed but still…

“You have been holding it upside down,” Fenris said with barely contained irritation. He pointed at the map then gestured off to their left. “That is the mountain marked on the map. It should be on our right.”

Hawke smiled weakly. “Oops?”

Fenris glared at him and muttered a few words in Tevene. He looked around then pointed. “This way.”

Hawke followed meekly in Fenris’ stomping wake and struggled to swallow the smile that was lurking at the edges of his mouth. He truly _hadn’t_ gotten them lost on purpose but he couldn’t say he was terribly upset that they were going to take a little longer to get where they needed to go. This was their first trip out from Skyhold since Fenris had recovered. Hawke had wanted to wait until after Carver had arrived and been sent on his way to Weisshaupt so they’d bided their time until then.

Now they were after a small encampment of Venatori mages who seemed to be lurking in one particular area for reasons unknown. They were to find the mages, find out what they were doing here and then despatch them in whatever way seemed appropriate. Hawke didn’t really much care about why they were out and about. He was just enjoying the fact that Fenris seemed to be back to his normal grumpy self. 

They’d had their ‘talk’ about Fenris’ flinching and general return to early Kirkwall levels of twitchiness before they’d left. It had been _exactly_ as painful and awkward as Hawke had been expecting. Between his memories of the effects of the red lyrium and being forced to allow vast amounts of magic to be used on him, Fenris was entirely done with mages in general. That had hurt to hear but Fenris had just sighed and rolled his eyes at him and reminded him that he was an exception to many rules, including this one.

Since the end result had been that Fenris stopped flinching at his touch, Hawke was willing to take the entire thing, as awkward and horrible as it had been, as a win. He wouldn’t claim to be an expert in Fenris’ thought processes but one thing he had learned over the years was that things always got better if you made him talk about whatever it was that was bothering him. If you let him bottle it up and brood on it, it seemed to magnify everything. So despite the growling and the occasional threat to walk out, talking seemed to work and thus Hawke would always push for it.

They emerged from the forest into a small clearing and Hawke nearly walked into the back of his lover when he came to a sudden halt. He was then abruptly shoved clear before Fenris drew his greatsword. Hawke automatically readied a spell before moving to the side to see what the threat was. He immediately let his spell die.

“I see the elf is still the smarter one,” Flemeth said dryly, arching an eyebrow at Hawke.

“Well, I figure you’re probably able to counter any spell I might cast but I haven’t met too many mages who can counter a giant sword being inserted into their chest,” Hawke said with an easy grin. “So… fancy meeting you here.”

Flemeth chuckled and ambled forward. She seemed far more interested in Fenris than Hawke and that made both of them tense up. The expression on her face was hard to read but Hawke could have sworn it was regret.

“I owe you an apology,” she said after coming to a halt in front of Fenris.

“Why?” the elf demanded, his sword still at the ready.

Flemeth smiled thinly then she abruptly changed into a rather unremarkable old woman. The woman meant nothing to Hawke but it certainly did to Fenris. He snarled and would have leapt forward if not for Hawke catching him by the arm.

“ _You_!” Fenris growled.

Hawke looked between them and a number of puzzle pieces fell into place. “The old woman who sent him to that cave was _you_?” he said angrily. “Why?”

Flemeth returned to her original form. She looked rather severe for a moment then relented. “It was. There were things you needed to know about that particular group of slavers. However they moved faster than I thought.” She paused and reached out to Fenris, brushing her fingers along the brands on his chin for a moment. “I did not intend for you to be endangered by these and the red lyrium. For that I apologise.”

Fenris pulled away from her touch and stepped backward. Hawke gently insinuated himself slightly between the two, his expression suspicious.

“You came all the way here to apologise to Fenris for getting him infected with red lyrium,” he said sceptically. “I mean, that’s nice and all but what’s the catch?”

“Such a suspicious boy,” Flemeth said, looking amused. “Do you think me incapable of common civility?”

“Nooooo,” Hawke said slowly. “But if you just wanted to say sorry, you could have sent a fruit basket.”

“She said there was something different about that group of slavers,” Fenris said sourly to Hawke.

Flemeth smiled. “Smart boy. Yes, I did and yes, that is the other reason why I am here.” She pointed off in a westerly direction. “You will find a similar group of slavers not far in that direction. I suggest you go and find them.”

“We were hunting Venatori,” Hawke objected, though it was clear that was more of a stalling tactic than anything else.

“I will take care of your Venatori,” Flemeth said with a small smile that sent shivers up both men’s spines. “You’ll find the slavers to be far more interesting.”

With that she turned and sauntered off into the forest. As they watched she walked behind a large tree and simply did not reappear out the other side.

“Well, that was very dramatic,” Hawke grumbled.

“Do we trust her?” Fenris asked. He was glowering in the direction the witch had gone as he sheathed his sword.

Hawke snorted. “No, of course not. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t check out these slavers.”

Fenris looked torn. Part of him _wanted_ to go after the slavers but his distrust of Flemeth, especially after finding out she was the reason he had become infected with red lyrium was at an all-time high.

“Look,” Hawke said, catching Fenris’ hand. “We’ll go and have a look. She sent you after those slavers for a reason. Now she’s sending us after these ones. We’ll be careful but… I’ve got to admit I’m curious about why she’s meddling like this.”

Fenris gave him a sour look. “Of course you are.”

“Like you aren’t?” Hawke replied, one eyebrow raised.

Fenris scowled and stomped a few feet away, muttering under his breath. Hawke let him go and simply waited for him to work through his anger and suspicion. He knew Fenris had to be as curious as he was about what Flemeth was doing.

“If there’s any red lyrium there, we’ll back off and contact the Inquisition,” he offered.

“That’s not the problem,” Fenris snapped then he scowled and sighed. “That is not the entire problem. I dislike being lead about by the nose.”

Hawke walked over and wrapped his arms around his lover. “Yeah, I’m not too thrilled about it either, especially when I don’t know what Flemeth’s angle is in all of this, but… she obviously thought it was important enough to apologise to you.” He cocked his head to one side. “I kind of get the feeling she doesn’t do the whole apology thing too often.”

Fenris continued to scowl but he also leaned into Hawke’s embrace. “Very well. We will go and see what is so important about these particular slavers.”

They separated and made their way through the forest in the direction Flemeth had indicated. It didn’t take long before they heard the sound of voices and they slowed and crept along until they found a good place to observe what was happening.

“Andraste’s _tits_ ,” Hawke breathed. “Grey Wardens.”

The slavers were clearly of Tevinter origin but the men and women in the wagon cages were equally clearly Grey Wardens. They sat slumped in the cages and did not seem overly aware of their surroundings.

“Warden warriors,” Fenris growled softly. “No mages based on their armour.”

Hawke took another look and nodded. “You’re right. If there were any mages in this lot, they must have been bound like the ones at Adamant.” He looked around. “Let’s get a bit closer. I want to hear what these slavers are saying.”

They wriggled carefully through the undergrowth until they were close enough for the voices to resolve into something they could hear clearly. As soon as they did, Hawke sighed. He couldn’t understand a word they were saying. Before he could do anything, Fenris put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head.

“Tevene,” the elf whispered before going back to listening.

Hawke waited impatiently as Fenris listened to the conversation. From his expression, he didn’t think whatever was being said was any good. Finally Fenris gestured for them to move back.

“The Wardens are from Weisshaupt,” Fenris said as soon as they were at a safe distance.

“ _What_?” Hawke demanded.

“The slavers picked up the Warden warriors at Weisshaupt,” Fenris continued. “They don’t know much but they’re to deliver the Wardens to someone called Samson in Emprise du Lion.”

“What about the mages at Weisshaupt?” Hawke asked.

Fenris shook his head. “The slavers didn’t know anything. They were met by one of the Venatori.”

“So the Venatori have the Wardens at Weisshaupt infiltrated…” He broke off and his eyes widened with a look of horror. “Carver!”

Fenris grabbed his arm before he could move. “Hawke! We can do nothing for Carver right now. He will still be on the road anyway.”

Hawke pulled against Fenris’ grip then he settled. “I… you’re right.” He ran a hand down his face. “Dammit!”

“We should rescue the Wardens,” Fenris said, a hint of relish creeping into his voice at the thought of slaughtering the slavers. “They will be able to tell us more about what is happening at Weisshaupt.”

“And you’d like to kill the slavers,” Hawke said with a grin.

“And you would not?”

Hawke chuckled. “Yeah, bastards, the lot of them.” He glanced back towards the slavers. “Alright, how’s this for a plan? We kill the slavers, free the Wardens, ask them questions, take them to the Inquisition then get the Inquisition to send people after Carver and get him to wait for us.” His eyes narrowed. “Then we go to Weisshaupt and find out what’s happened together.”

Fenris raised an eyebrow. “For one of your plans? Surprisingly coherent.”

Hawke grinned and gripped his staff. “Let’s go then.”

********

“Are you sure you don’t want Inquisition help? I’m sure we could spare a few soldiers to go with you.”

Hawke grinned down at the dwarven scout who was running the Inquisition camp they’d delivered the Wardens to. Harding was a firebrand in Hawke’s opinion and he liked her enormously.

“I think marching on Weisshaupt with Inquisition forces might send the wrong idea,” he said. “Fenris, Carver and I are just going to saunter in and reconnoitre the place. Try and look like we’re not aware of what’s going on.”

“Potentially get captured,” Harding added dryly.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Hawke shrugged. “We’ll manage. The Inquisition’s going to need all the people it has for this attack on the Arbor Wilds you were telling me about.”

Harding grimaced. She knew that was true. She was supposed to leave that afternoon with as many scouts as she could to join up with the rest of the forces in the Arbor Wilds. From what she could tell, this attack was quite likely going to be the beginning of the end of all of this, for better or for worse. She could only hope it was for the better.

“Alright. Well, we’ll make sure the Wardens get to Skyhold. They won’t need much of an escort once they’re back on their feet.”

Hawke nodded. The Wardens had been drugged and while most of it had worn off after a day or two, they were still a bit sluggish and slow. The healer at the camp had said that it wasn’t anything to worry about and that another day or two should see the last of the drug out of their system and the Wardens back to normal. Hawke was relieved. While he was a bit ambivalent about the Wardens as a whole after all the recent events, there were a lot of good men and women in the ranks. He wasn’t going to condemn the lot of them based on the actions of a few.

“Thanks, Harding,” Hawke said. “Fenris and I had better get going if we’re going to catch up with Carver.”

“Safe travels,” Harding said. She hesitated for a moment then called out, “Hawke! I think I know the Inquisitor pretty well by now so I think I’m pretty safe in saying that if we don’t hear from you on a regular basis, he’s going to send out the army after you.”

Hawke smiled wryly. “If you don’t hear from us, we’re probably going to need it.”

He gave her a small salute and turned away. A moment later, Hawke and Fenris strode out of the camp. Harding watched them go with a sober expression. “Maker watch over you both,” she murmured before turning back to her duties. The Arbor Wilds awaited and after that… maybe Corypheus himself.


End file.
